Those with more years are surer that they know better. We seem headed down the long tunnel towards darkness, remembering the other side, where light returns. Fall to winter, winter to spring. And on and on. We want to share experiences, how we coped with trials, the reason and the right way to plant a seed. When to water and when to leave off irrigation. How does a farmer pass along their lessons to the next generation? Years and cycles of seasons create notions of wisdom, minds ruminating on stories that want to be told. An auntie alone on the couch beckons for listeners, but she seems so tired, her ideas so old. Youth turns aside, rejection, lightness calling, pulling them away. They want to learn, they want to learn their own lessons, their own way. Innovation! Creation! Energy! Originality! Expression! Old tired eyes squint at this dazzling light. Auntie is offering gifts, some of irreplaceable value, some that are best let go. Both, she insists, are the same. Oh, so tiresome! The setting sun, glowing beauty, meets an ancient oak soaking up the last rays, joyfully, nonetheless. Bright stars gleaming in the night. They say whole galaxies are being born somewhere out there.
The Last Markets
Another season draws to a close at Molino Creek Farm with one, maybe two last markets. Judy and Adan comb the rows of tomato vines, searching for the last tomatoes worth selling. The sunflowers have faded, but a few onions remain. Where once there wasn’t room in the market truck for even one box of orchard fruit, now many boxes are welcomed. Customers are buying apples! And the cash immediately goes towards cover crop seed, just in time. And we wonder…where next will we sell Community Orchard fruit? Where there is such rich and valued sweetness, we will find a way.
Clouds Roll In
Clouds and distant thunder accompany this ponderous and sad end. Recent years bring this see-saw of Fall heatwaves crashing headlong into surprising cold spells. A third major, many day heat wave saw even high 90s last week and only cooling to the 70s at night. And suddenly this morning we awoke to the 40s with clouds streaming in. They say it might rain. Some farmers even forestalled irrigation with hopes of water from the sky! At any rate, transpiration slowed from cooler temperatures, shortening days, and cloud cover so plants naturally aren’t quite as thirsty.
Fall Color
The recent heat crisped the normally colorful black walnut leaves, but the promise of fall leaf cheer is starting to blush in Molino Creek Farm’s willow groves. Six years on after the fire, the willow groves are lush and thick like never before…many 2” diameter smooth trunks sprouted from the burnt-out stumps. They are 15 feet tall now, thick in long bushy lines along the unnamed tributary that cuts across our land. The willow yellow is a welcome respite from the otherwise drab landscape. The once-tawny gold grasses are gray with age and the summer drought has left even the redwood needles a bit tired and dull. The forest understory has shriveled to nothing: “duff.” Wildlife tracks have exposed dusty trails, many tracks left in the dirt and piles of dried scat accumulated from the entire summer alongside those. Nature has a fondness for muted browns right now…but then there are the willows! Perhaps rain will soon wash away the dirt and many shades of green will emerge with the newfound moisture.
